


My Favourite Day

by righteousgonewrong



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Gen, Sam's Birthday, written from Dean's POV
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-02
Updated: 2015-05-02
Packaged: 2018-03-28 17:31:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,478
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3863308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/righteousgonewrong/pseuds/righteousgonewrong
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A letter to Sam from Dean reminiscing about all the good things May 2nd has brought him, and why it's Dean's favourite day of the year. Written entirely from Dean's POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Favourite Day

Alright, so I know I ain't no Stephen King or anything, but I have to say something. I get it, bad shit has a tendency to go down on your birthday. But it wasn't always like that, and I know you’re probably gonna get annoyed and hate every minute of this but, well, too bad. I’m saying it anyways.  


Just trying to decide where I should start this thing. 

Definitely not with anything recent, I guess. You already know about all the bad ones and any that weren't bad you just pretended the day didn't exist altogether. Which is kinda why I’m writing all this crap.

I guess I should start with your twenty third birthday. Do you remember that one? That was your first birthday since we got back together. That wasn't horrible. I mean, kinda awkward, but not horrible. 

And since it is your birthday, no matter how much you don’t want it to be, I might as well confess that the adult magazines and beer that showed up in your bag were from me. I’m sure you hadn’t guessed that. So you’re welcome.

The next three years before that, uh... I don’ know. I wasn’t there. Or I was, you just didn’t see me. 

Guess that’s my second birthday confession for the year. Dad and I drove past your school to check in on you. I won’t tell you how many times, just that we definitely did it on your twenty first birthday and we definitely caught a glimpse of you all over the blonde bombshell I now know as Jess. 

That must’ve been a happy year, at least. You were off on your own, like you wanted. And with her.

Moving on. 

...Or back, I guess.

How about the year you turned eighteen? I know you and Dad got in a fight over the college thing, but you and I had one of the best talks we’d had in a while. I told you not to listen to Dad and to do what you wanted. 

Sorry I didn’t stick to my word. 

I really was proud of you though, you know? I missed you like hell, but I was proud. I even bragged about you to my girlfriend, Cassie--you remember Cassie?--while you were gone. Told her all about how my nerdy little genius of a brother got into Stanford on scholarship. 

She told me I should go visit you on your birthday, twentieth I think it was. Looking back, I guess I should’ve listened.

Oh, here’s a good one. Spring of 1999, your sixteenth birthday. That was the year Dad officially passed the Impala over to me, remember? You’d just got your driver’s license, your _real_ driver’s license I mean, not just another fake one. 

I could tell you and Dad were gonna argue again if I left you both cooped up in the same room, so I let you take Baby out for a spin--with my supervision, of course. I even let you choose which tapes you had to suffer through me singing along too. And when you realized you couldn’t shut me up, you put on AC/DC’s Back in Black, ya little brat. Man, my throat hurt from trying to force my voice that high. It was worth it though, that was the first time in a while I saw you laugh. 

Do you remember when you got your first computer? It was when you turned eleven. Who knew you’d grow up to be such a hi-tech geek? 

Although really, I should’ve seen the signs. You’d been begging Dad for that thing for weeks. I was gonna try and get you one, picked up money here and there doing odd jobs and gambling. I think that’s one of the reasons Dad finally gave in, actually. So you’re welcome.

You can’t tell me that wasn’t a happy birthday. I saw the way your eyes lit up when Dad handed you that boxy hunk of junk. You ranted for a good twenty minutes about the internet, you were practically giggling with glee when you turned it on for the first time and showed me how it all worked. It was also the first time you told me not to touch your computer. Although back then I really didn’t have a reason to want to touch it, so that was kinda pointless.

That’s why I’m so pushy about your birthday, you know. Because that’s the kind of thing I remember. I remember you smiling and laughing and just forgetting for a day that our lives sucked ass.

Although I guess they weren’t all happy. The year before that’s a good example, you were ten and you were all pumped to get to this big soccer game your team was playing. Dad made you stay home with us and practice bowhunting instead. 

I even tried to talk him out of it, telling him to give you a break for your birthday, but he was convinced you might need to shoot a skinwalker from fifty yards with a freaking bow. And yeah, we ended up using this crap in hunts later, but it could’ve waited a day.

But even crap times like that had silver linings. I know kicking a ball around with me probably wasn’t as exciting as a whole match with your team, but we had fun. I know you did, I saw that smile again. 

God, I’d do anything to see you smile back then. Back when you were little and you actually let me bend over backwards for you.

I’m pretty sure you don’t remember this one, you were turning three. It was the first time we actually celebrated your birthday. Up until then Dad was too busy researching everything he could to try and protect us. I think he was also still getting over Mom’s death, I think he always was, but he never talked about that. 

Anyways, the reason it stands out to me is because I actually managed to talk Dad into taking (half of) the day off and buying you a cake. He grabbed a frozen ice cream cake from a little convenience store in town, I even talked him into grabbing some candles for you to blow out. 

You were so damn happy with that cake, giggling and shoving it in your face like godzilla with a sweet tooth. Then you grabbed me with your sticky ice cream fingers and made me sit with you until you fell asleep on me. 

I think that’s when I decided your birthday was my favourite day of the year.

Then we come to the most important May 2nd of all. May 2nd, 1983. The day you were born.

I kind of remember it, did I ever tell you that? I remember sitting in the hospital waiting for whatever it was I thought Mom was doing to be over. And I remember meeting you. I remember Mom asking me if I wanted to hold you. I remember Dad hovering near me when she put you in my arms, making sure I wasn’t going to drop you or something.

I couldn’t have though. You were my baby brother. I can’t tell you exactly what was going through my head back then, but damn if I wasn’t sad when I had to let you go and give you back to Mom. I realized how much of an annoying brat you were later on, of course, but at that time you were the most perfect little thing I’d ever seen. 

Even if you were wrinkly and weird looking.

So don’t you dare tell me that nothing good has ever come from your birthday. I get that it’s kinda selfish for me to want to celebrate it every year, it’s my favourite day, not yours. I’m the one who got you, got to see you smile, got to spend time with you. I didn’t lose things like you did. And I get it, I really do. So I won’t make a big deal out of it. We don’t have to talk about it at all. But I can’t go back and forget all those memories. I just need you to get where I'm coming from.

Hence the girly Notebook style letter. Which you’re never going to bug me about ever, or I swear I’m going 'My Super Sweet 16' on your ass and embarrassing the shit out of you for your next birthday. Just so we’re clear.

Anyways, take the knife I hid under this paper and deal with it. She’s a Muela bowie knife, sharp as a damn razor. Nice weight too. You’re lucky you’re getting it, I almost kept her for myself.

And before you make a fuss over it, I snagged it when we were on a hunt a few weeks back, so it’s not such a big deal.


End file.
